


Instances

by Kitashi



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Cassian POV, F/M, Moriel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:31:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8130478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitashi/pseuds/Kitashi
Summary: For Moriel Week on Tumblr, prompt Through Another's Eyes.Three times that Cassian noticed Azriel’s affection for Mor, and one where he does something about it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [illyriantremors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/illyriantremors/gifts).



> I had a ton of fun writing this! Cassian seemed to be the perfect person to tell the story of our beloved shadow bat and his queen of light. Thank you to @illyriantremors for reading it over, and also inspiring events with your lovely Shadowsinger fic (if you haven’t read it, you totally should!) I hope you all enjoy! <3

It started off slowly.

The day Rhys had brought Mor into our lives, my nearly eighteen year old self was focused on the fact that despite that she had no wings, she was the single most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Bright blonde hair, expressive brown eyes, a beautiful smile—and curves that would have had every male in the camp pawing at her had she been related to _anyone_ but Rhys. She was unattainable, but even to admire her from afar seemed like a blessing from the Cauldron.

The more time she spent with us, the more I wanted her to stay. She fit in with us easily, her dignified, High Fae appearance belying a personality and strength that reminded us so much of Rhys, and yet could keep even him on his toes. She could hold her own in the arena, and she didn't care what people thought of her. Before her second week with us was over, Mor quickly had become the piece of the puzzle we didn't know was missing, and she just felt _right_.

The night before she was to go home, we were left alone. Rhys and his mother had returned to see his father and took Azriel with them. When she came to me and invited me to her bed, asked for me to give her the ability to _choose_ before her father shipped her off to the Autumn Court, to a man she didn't love to be breeding stock for his heirs, I didn't even hesitate. I felt justified in that she had chosen me, that she wanted _me_. In hindsight, I realize that I was a hormonal, lust driven teenager and she could have asked me for literally anything and I would have said yes—especially if it involved sex.

It was the next morning, when I woke up next to her, our legs tangled together in the sheets and her naked body curled up beside me, that I felt the cold, sinking revelation of what this would mean for her. When I realized just how badly I had fucked up.

Preparing to face the consequences of my actions was torture in itself. And when they returned to the camp… I had never seen Azriel—my stoic, steadfast brother—heartbroken before. He didn't say a word, but he didn't have to. As if I didn't feel like shit already, the look in his eyes, the betrayal that I hadn't even realized I committed… That look when he discovered what I’d done could have killed me right there just out of the guilt I felt.

However, Rhys was more than willing to do it for him. I had never seen him so angry, the High Fae half of his powers radiating off him in waves of endless darkness. I didn't even try to defend myself, even though Mor tried to calm her cousin, tried to lessen my punishment as he beat me into the mud outside. I knew I deserved every punch, every bruise, and really more. I almost wished he would kill me. I had betrayed my brothers, their trust, for a girl. I had put Mor in danger, and all of us with her.

Rhys didn't speak to me for over a week, and Azriel could barely look at me. It probably would have been longer had Rhys not returned panicked over what had happened to Mor afterwards, when he went to what he called the Court of Nightmares in the Hewn City, the seat of his father’s court, and couldn't find her. Mor’s father Keir was apathetic and unconcerned about his daughter's welfare, and from what Rhys shared seemed to act like he didn't have a daughter.

Az swiftly volunteered to retrieve her from the Autumn Court with barely a word from Rhys, willing to court death itself to save her. Rhys didn't bother to ask me; I’d done enough. Az brought her, battered and broken, back to a house that was bigger than anything I’d ever seen in the camps, in a city of starlight. As a bastard who had never left the Illyrian Steppes, I felt so out of place when Rhys winnowed me into this strange and yet beautiful city.

The torture she suffered… all because I didn't think with the right head. I watched her bruises and wounds slowly heal as she slept, watched the spot where a long and rusty nail had been driven into her abdomen become a twisted scar, knowing it was all my fault. He wouldn't tell me how he had found her. However, the murderous rage that consumed Azriel as he begged Rhys to let him go back to rid the Autumn Court of its heir, and at Rhys's denial… I’d gotten used to the shadows that accompanied my brother, but they were whipped into a frenzy that neither of us could stop. He eventually calmed down on his own, but after that he never left Mor’s side unless he was forced out by a healer, holding her hand in a death grip as if to anchor her to this world… to him.

That was the first instance.

Mor and I never referenced our night together. Or rather, she didn't. She made it clear that she didn't want to get in between our brotherhood again. While I understood her reasoning, I’d be lying if I said it didn't bruise my ego, that it didn't bother me for centuries to come that she could walk away from my bed and never look back.

We continued with an easy friendship nonetheless. Our brotherhood gained a sister in Mor, and with the addition of Amren, became a family. And when Rhys became High Lord tragically too soon and we became orphans in addition to bastards, that family became his Inner Circle. Rhys made Azriel and I his spymaster and general respectively, and the camp we grew up in had to bow to us and our commands. There was something satisfying in telling Devlon to shove it, but the real entertainment was how pissed off Mor made him and how quickly she could have him running like a dog with his tail between his legs.

However, the first thing Rhys, Azriel, and I did in our new positions was unofficially tell Keir, in no uncertain terms, that the moment his daughter tired of his presence, his life would be ended slowly either by her or on Azriel's blade, Truth-Teller; whichever she preferred.

As we flanked Rhys's throne, staring that worm down who realized that his days were uncertainly numbered, Az walked towards Keir and backed him against the wall of the throne room. Rhys didn't move to stop him, as I watched Az’s shadows envelop them. When they vanished, Az walked back to his place next to Rhys, his expression as stoic as usual, leaving Keir wide eyed and terrorized against the wall, a thin line of blood welling up against his throat. Truth-Teller, the blade he adamantly refused to admit was named for Mor, was in Az’s hand, a small section of the edge bloodstained. It was the only time I had seen enjoyment glinting in Azriel’s eyes at the thought of making someone suffer.

That was the second instance.

Despite what had happened to her, the horrors that we all knew had befallen her at the hands of Eris and his men… Mor hid her trauma well, behind her cheerful, irreverent personality. She was a queen in her own right, at Rhys’s command, and brought the cretins that followed her father to heel, allowing us to help sometimes when we were bored. She was deadly grace, and not just on the battlefield. She would drag us all down to Rita's, her favorite nightclub in Velaris, on a weekly to sometimes daily basis for drinks and dancing. All of us except Az.

He refused her politely, but it was obvious to everyone who wasn't Mor that he wanted nothing more than to be at her side to love her for all eternity. Just as it was obvious to everyone who wasn't Az that Mor felt the same, from inviting him with us every time, to how she was always the first person to receive Az when he came home from a mission for Rhys, just to make sure he was okay.

It took four hundred years before she managed to convince him to go to Rita’s; four hundred years for him to realize that his good intentions had hurt the person he most wanted to protect. Watching them dance that first night made my heart clench in jealousy, but I knew. I teased them, especially Az, but discovering his reason for not pursuing Mor ate at me. He didn't think someone as bloodstained and scarred as he was deserved her. That if he had been worthy, she would have chosen _him_ all those centuries ago and not me.

That was the third instance. Which led me to tonight.

It was Starfall. Our first since Rhys had returned from Under the Mountain. Our family was reunited for the first time in fifty years, with a potential new member in Feyre, the woman who had freed Prythian from the control of Amarantha and had our High Lord brother acting like a lovesick fool. I had chatted with guests, but it was politics; I didn't even know their names. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Azriel staring intently off towards the upper patio. It didn't take long to see exactly who he was focused on.

Mor looked gorgeous in her silk white gown that showed off her curves, her golden hair falling around her shoulders in waves. She could have passed for a star spirit herself, standing out in the darkened patio. It was nights like tonight that I was reminded of my teenage infatuation with her, and a small part of me wished she felt the same. But the look in Az’s eyes when she walked over to us… the shadows that always accompanied my brother lightened almost to the point of being nonexistent when she was in his presence. And I knew in my heart that anything I had ever felt for Mor paled in comparison to the depth of love he had for her.

“You look beautiful,” he told her, his voice betraying his want for her, even if she didn't know it. Our usually confident Mor blushed faintly when he took her hand and kissed the back of it. Before he could pull his hand away, ever ashamed of his scar mottled hands, she grasped his hand and pulled me with other.

“Come with me,” she said, her tone one that ensured that neither of us could deny whatever she asked. I vaguely apologized to the person I had been conversing with, and let myself be dragged away.

She dragged us to a small, unoccupied part of the patio, where three flutes of champagne waited. She handed one to each of us. Her timing was impeccable, as a moment later, a hush fell over the crowd, and Starfall began. We raised our glasses as the first star spirit crossed the sky, and as everyone cheered, drained our glasses. Another star crossed the sky, followed by another, and soon it was filled with star spirits that you could barely see the stars themselves. Then the music began.

“Let's dance,” Mor said with a grin. I looked at Az and gave him a half smile, which he returned. The three of us danced together, our movements so synced that you would have thought we had practiced. For the first time in fifty years, we danced as though it was the last time we ever would, ignoring the nagging and sobering feeling that it really could be our last Starfall together. As Mor danced between us, her head tipped back to the sky and her arms up, I grabbed her hand and spun her in a circle, causing her to let out a peal of laughter. Waiting for the right moment, I spun her around again and let her go, making her end up in Azriel's arms.

Mor’s eyes widened a fraction, but she pulled him into a hug a moment later, resting her cheek on his chest, her expression perfectly content. Az froze, giving me a questioning look. I grinned at him and gave him a half bow; whether he understood my meaning or his shadows told him my intentions, he gave me a small, grateful smile, leading Mor into a slow dance as he enveloped her in his arms.

I took a seat on the edge of the patio, snagging a glass of wine from a passing waiter. Alcohol, no matter what, was definitely not a bad thing to have tonight.

I looked up and caught a glimpse of Rhys and Feyre on a balcony above us, and couldn't suppress a grin at the dopey smile on his face as she smiled at him. Despite knowing how hard earned her smile was, I was going to give him such shit about this later.

The star spirits were still streaking across the sky, and I couldn't help but watch them. Maybe someday, the Cauldron would see fit to give me someone to spend Starfall with.

I heard Mor giggle like a little girl and looked up to see Azriel lift her up in a spin, a rare, true smile on his face. I knew tomorrow things would go back to normal; he would act like none of this had happened, closing himself behind his safe wall of shadows as Mor knocked, waiting patiently for him to let her and her light in again.

And as Rhys and Feyre came to join us, their faces sparkling with stardust, Feyre's sporting what I was sure was the imprint of Rhys's lips on her cheek, we all danced and enjoyed our time together.

I didn't have a partner for Starfall, but I didn't need one. I had my family.

At least for tonight, I could be content.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought! All comments and suggestions are welcome, & if you have a POV/scene you would really like to see, please let me know! Thank you for reading!
> 
> Also, I have a writing Tumblr! If anyone is interested in talking & discussing ACOTAR, ACOMAF, or giving suggestions/asking questions, I can be found at _<http://kitashiwrites.tumblr.com>_.
> 
> Hope to see you there!


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